“Can we take it from this, sir that Admiral Lewis and the Home Fleet have successfully put in their attack?” asked another officer.
Fengzi looked like he’d bitten into something that gone off but nodded sharply.
“Yes, Admiral, it seems your husband and the First Fleet has been sufficiently successful in their attack to force a reaction from the Nameless. That would mean that, as hoped, they have been cut off from their home bases. This is obviously a good thing but what’s less good is that they have reacted quickly and decisively. If the Nameless are in full retreat, then they have abandoned in a matter of days all the gains it took them two years to achieve.”
“Most of those gains are just empty space, sir,” observed Admiral Gordon.
“True,” Fengzi agreed. “But there is the infrastructure they have built in that time – now they are destroying gates and moving back the supplies they previously made a considerable effort to move forward.”
“They still have Landfall,” Berg murmured.
“Yes, Captain Berg,” Fengzi said, apparently hearing her, “they also still have Landfall.”
Berg felt herself flush with embarrassment but the Admiral had already moved on.
“Landfall is the jewel in their conquest crown and possibly the last place before the Spur itself where they might be compelled to stand and fight. Therefore I propose that rather than continuing to sweep forward across a broad front, we make a narrow front drive to Landfall, thereby cutting off the Nameless line of retreat.”
“That, sir, runs the risk of leaving Nameless combat units in our rear areas,” Laura Lewis commented.
“Given their willingness to accept casualties, we couldn’t rule out them sacrificing a few smaller units to harass our supply lines,” added another officer.
“And sir,” Dandolo spoke up, “that assumes that they are actually retreating. The Nameless might just be clearing the area around us.”
“All of those points are valid,” Fengzi replied, “which in my opinion means we need to attack ground they must defend. Landfall is the only place that meets that definition.”
“Is it though, sir?” Gordon persisted. “Much as we know they have committed resources to Landfall, right now it is in no way contributing to their war effort. If we take it from them, it will not be making any contribution to ours.”
“But everything they have gained will be lost,” Fengzi replied frowning.
“Yes, sir, but if the Home Fleet has cut them off from their home bases, then right now they are living on borrowed time. If someone comes at you with a knife, you’ll willingly grab the blade and loose a couple of fingers rather than get stabbed in the chest! This might be their attempt to grab the blade.”
“What would you recommend, Gordon?” Fengzi asked after moment.
“Go after the supplies sir. If they are cut off, then the battle at The Spur will become one of endurance, what they already have over on this side of the rift will be the last of their oxygen. Anything they manage to heave back up the line, gives them a little more to hurl at the First Fleet.”
Fengzi drummed his fingers on the podium.
“How would you go about it?” he eventually asked.
“Take the fleet beyond Landfall. Take out an entire stretch of gates and blockade them.”
“No.”
“Sir…”
“No, Gordon,” Fengzi said more forcefully. “We do not have the ships to impose an effective blockade. We already know from experience they can replace gates quickly. We need to force contact on the enemy and I believe a direct assault on Landfall represents the best way to do that.”
Berg raised a hand and Fengzi nodded towards her.
“Sir, we could send portion of the fleet to…”
“If the whole fleet couldn’t enforce a blockade then a squadron certainly won’t cut it,” Fengzi interrupted. “The strike boat carriers will be dispatched to go deep. They’re not much use for a fleet action anyway. Now unless someone has any other point, we jump out at seventeen hundred hours.”
“We’re potentially leaving a lot of Nameless units along our own supply lines,” said Gordon in a resigned tone.
For a moment, Fengzi looked like he would lose his temper, but instead he emitted a long sigh.
“That can’t be helped – and if they do attack our supply lines, well, then we’ll have stayed in contact.”
“Gordon has always been a bit of a narrow focus man,” Dandolo remarked as he and Berg made their way back to their respective shuttles. “From what I’ve ever seen, he tends lack a feel for the big picture.”
“You don’t think a blockade would work, sir?” Berg asked.
“With ships spread out, to my mind it would be too vulnerable to the Nameless coming through one system en masse and overwhelming whatever ships we have there, before the rest of our fleet can join them. But that’s a moot point. We barely have enough supply ships to get us as far as Landfall, let alone any further.”
“Let us hope Landfall is enough,” she replied, while thinking that Gordon might not be the worst at not seeing the big picture.
“Indeed, Captain. I’ll see you there.”
___________________________
24th April 2069
When the war started was a matter of definition. As second-in-command of the Mississippi, Berg would say that first encounter had been the beginning. The history books would be likely to record it as the destruction of Baden Base; either way, Berg had been there for both and now she was back.
The last time she’d seen Baden had been from the bridge of the destroyer Mantis as they desperately ran for the Red Line. She could still remember the sight of it burning as if it had happened yesterday. Any ships that couldn’t run were still here and it had taken months for her nightmares to fade.
The fires were gone, long since snuffed out by the vacuum of space. The debris remained, however. Given time, the weak gravity of the asteroid on which Baden had been built would pull it all back down, but for now anything that hadn’t been blown completely clear still orbited the asteroid.
On the visual display she could make out an engine here, a radar tower there and the entire gutted hulk of the carrier Yorktown, lying broken at the mooring she’d been trapped against. Yet that was still easier to bear than the smaller contacts, those tiny drifting human shapes. As Black Prince nosed closer to the station, every so often her sweeping searchlight would illuminate a body. Each time that happened, the light’s operator would hesitate and sigh across the command channel. Berg had spoken to him about it the first few times he’d done it but had since given up. You couldn’t damn someone for having humanity. The focus wasn’t tight enough to make out faces but it was enough to see that most of the dead hadn’t managed to get into their survival suits. Perhaps they’d been luckier than those who had.
“Captain, do you think there might be anyone still alive?” the coms officer asked quietly.
“If someone made it to an escape pod but didn’t eject, then they could have easily survived this long in hibernation.” Berg shook her head before continuing. “If we take the system, then we can send people into the station and… ” she hesitated for a moment, “ … and the wrecks to take a look. But that’s not a question for today.”
Astern of Black Prince, the rest of the squadron held at Baden’s Red Line, ready to offer support if needed. Other ships were checking the blind spots behind the various planetary bodies before the main body of the fleet moved in. They didn’t have long. Their arrival hadn’t triggered any urgent FTL transmissions but in a few hours, the slower light speed emissions from their engines would reach Landfall, where the Nameless would definitely pick them up.
Their enemy had no doubt picked the station’s bones bare after their first great victory, but nothing more. If they were about to stand and fight, it wouldn’t be here. At Berg’s command, Black Prince turned away.
___________________________
The Second Fleet filed back in
to real space a good fifteen light seconds out from the planet’s Red Line. As soon as Black Prince cleared the jump conduit, communications reported a mass of FTL transmissions. More ships were now assembled than when Black Prince had been here for the Fury convoy – a lot more, in fact.
“Tactical, what breakdown are you getting?” Berg asked as they got into position.
Fengzi had wanted his fleet formed up and ready before they entered the mass shadow. By extension, this offered the Nameless the opportunity to come forward to meet them.
“Count is still provisional at this point, Captain,” came the reply, “but at the moment we are seeing three cap ships, possibly two carriers, a dozen cruisers and over twenty escorts or scouts, plus several dozen transports, all of them in orbit.”
“Is that all? Could some of those transports be warships?”
“That’s a negative, Captain. We’re picking up their engine emissions on the passives and they are consistent with gateships... Hold on! Fresh contacts... negative those are more gateships and a second gate in lunar orbit. The second group of gateships are moving towards it. We are also seeing multiple small contacts coming up from the surface of Landfall.”
“This isn’t a defence,” Berg said as she came to a realisation, “they’re evacuating!”
“Captain, that... that appears to be correct.”
On the holo, she could see the activity around Landfall become more frantic. Some gateships broke orbit and started accelerating towards the closest gate. The two presumed carriers disgorged their fighters, and then did something strange. Both turned and began to accelerate after the gateships. Bugging out? Berg wondered as she watched, her expression puzzled. The rest of the warships were also on the move, but there was a clear separation between the smaller and larger ships. The smaller ones were moving forward and around to get onto the flanks, but their larger ships were showing no inclination to close in. They weren’t in full retreat like the gateships and carriers, but they were definitely being tentative. The fighters showed no reluctance, however. They were accelerating at full bore straight towards the Second Fleet.
“Bridge, Sensors. Contact separation, we have incoming.”
More blips appeared to join the fighters, all converging on the Second Fleet.
The Second Fleet had only one small carrier to supplement the fighters carried by the heavy cruisers and battleships. The Ravens rushed forward to meet their Nameless counterparts, while the rest of the fleet began to accelerate towards the planet. With the human ships formed up and on the move, Berg had a moment to study the screen as the opposing fighters clashed. The focus of the holo wasn’t tight enough to make out individual craft but she did see the Nameless break through.
“Sensors, give me a close-up of the fighters!” she snapped.
The holo zoomed in just in time to see two fighter blips – one human, one Nameless – converge. And disappear. The front rank of Nameless fighters had blown a hole by the simple expedient of ramming anything that got in the way! The carriers weren’t hanging around because none of the fighters were coming back. As they tore open a gap in the human screen, the rest of the Nameless charged through, engines on full burn. Berg realised what they were facing just as the collision detection alarm sounded.
“Suicide ships inbound!” she warned, “Helm, stand by for instructions!”
The Nameless warships launched a combined salvo timed to reach them just as the fighters did. The human fighters had been wrong footed and were now frantically pursuing. They probably would have done better to concentrate on the salvo of missiles now accelerating through and past them. Floundering between two targets, they dealt with neither. Berg tightened her grip on her armrests as she saw five fighters turn their way.
“Engines! Stand by for full power! Point Defence, commence, commence, commence!”
Space around the fleet lit up as every gun fired. Plasma bolts burned through the approaching fighters, attempting to at least break up their formation. Several blips disappeared as fighters were vaporised. Individual ship captains realised what they were facing and the Second Fleet’s formation began to loosen, as vessels looked for room to manoeuvre. On the Black Prince, the collision alarm sounded again as two of the approaching fighters latched onto Black Prince and came burning in, behind two cap ship missiles. Impact from any one of them would be devastating. Should they attempt to dodge them or stand fast and place faith in their guns to knock them down? Berg had a split second to decide.
“Engines, hard back! Helm, port ninety, bows down twenty!”
She could feel the hull groan at the abuse, as Black Prince lurched violently out of formation. The cap ship missiles tried to match the manoeuvre but they were too late; they were still trying to turn as they flashed through the space Black Prince should have occupied. The fighters were quicker to react and came in firing both guns and missiles but met a storm of counter fire. One took a burst of fire that ripped away the entire cockpit area. Without control it skimmed past, close enough to knock away an aerial. The second detonated when a round of flak ploughed through it. Fragments peppered Black Prince’s port wing with holes.
Reports started to come in, but immediately Berg could feel the damage was only cosmetic. On the holo, however, she could see several ships were flagging damage codes and gaps in the fleet’s formation. Those Nameless fighters that had missed their targets were trying to turn but the pursuing human fighters would catch them first.
“Bridge, Coms. Signal from Colossus, we’re to take Saladin’s place in the formation.”
“Sensors, give me a visual on Saladin,” Berg ordered.
When it appeared on her screen she hissed with horror. Their squadron mate’s entire bows had been completely obliterated. Its forward bearings gone, the centrifuge was swinging loose.
“Coms, signal the flagship message received,” she replied. “Do we still have the link to Saladin?”
“Confirmed, sir. We do.”
“Order them to tuck in under our port wing. We’ll cover them,” she said, before adding, half to herself: “this isn’t over yet.”
The Nameless might be pulling out but they were determined to exact the highest possible price first. The Second Fleet was still moving forward but now, on the holo, she could see full extent of the gaps in its formation. The Ninth Destroyer squadron was down to just one ship, the icon for the cruiser Ganges, was moving in a slow circle behind the fleet, flashing multiple damage codes. Ahead, the Nameless scouts, escorts and a few of their cruisers still advanced, firing as they came.
“Bridge, Sensors. Incoming entering our area.”
“Guns! Stand by to engage.”
___________________________
Guinness took a firm grip of the man’s shoulder and hit him hard on the side of his helmet. He followed up with two more blows before the man recovered enough of his reason to stop his panicked attempt to open his helmet visor and instead defend himself.
“Get your mouth piece in, you fucking clown!” Guinness shouted as he pressed his helmet to the other man’s.
Even if the vomit inside the helmet had shorted out the helmet’s internal speakers, it should be audible. Clearly it was. Guinness saw the panic in his eyes fade before they closed and the man began to reach with his lips for the emergency breathing tube. Vomit and spittle still almost filled the helmet – damn fool must have overeaten before they all sealed up and the ship depressurised.
The first casualty was already on his way to sickbay.
“Get this plonker to sickbay to empty out, then send him back here,” Guinness roared at one of the damage control ratings.
“And take this,” he added, as he grabbed the severed leg that was drifting down the access way. “He’ll probably want his shoe back!”
Guinness turned back towards the rest of his engine crew. Blood had splashed across several of them and odds were that a few other helmets had blobs of unpleasantness floating around inside. God only knew how that missile splinter had ri
cocheted its way into engineering. Damned bad luck about Rating Hickey standing where he was. Still a man could get by easier without a leg than his head.
“Well don’t stand there scratching yourselves! Check for damage!”
Black Prince gave another violent lurch and the display beside Guinness indicated the main guns were drawing plasma again. Reactor power had been all over the place over the last hour as the engine performed everything from emergency all back to full ahead. Right now though, they were running at forty percent maximum, from which they concluded they weren’t in full retreat or full pursuit. Beyond that it was impossible to know what their situation was – and that was becoming harder and harder to bear. As a younger man he’d been able to accept it. He kept the engines going and those at the front had the easier job of everything else. But now Guinness knew he would rather know if his last moments were upon him.
___________________________
The front quarter of the Nameless cruiser began to burn as it de-orbited and started to brush against Landfall’s atmosphere. The last of the Nameless ships had jumped away more than an hour ago, the space gates detonating behind them as they went. The cap ships all made it out, as did most of the gateships and cruisers. The scouts and escorts sacrificed themselves to hold off the Second Fleet long enough for the more important vessels to make it clear. Left in possession of the field of battle, the Second Fleet now orbited over Landfall, once again a human world but now a soiled prize. A handful of weapons satellites remained, obviously installed after the convoy into Landfall had offered a final tenuous line of resistance, one the Second Fleet swept away as a virtual afterthought. As the satellites died, there were at least four nuclear detonations on the surface of the planet. Sensors reported the readings as consistent with fusion reactor breaches. It wasn’t as bad as a fission reactor meltdown but significant sections of the planet were now being heavily irradiated. A few shuttles were on their way down, to establish contact with whoever was left but the fleet didn’t have the capacity for humanitarian operations. Whatever survivors of the planet’s population remained would have to manage for at least a while longer yet.
The Last Charge (The Nameless War Trilogy Book 3) Page 41
